


Kinky Christmas Action

by Shes-claws-deep (CyrilOdahviing)



Series: Flash Sale Nov 2018 [7]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Begging, Exhibitionism, F/M, Female Dominance, Femdom, Nipple Torture, Public Sex, sub!Thermite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 00:33:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrilOdahviing/pseuds/Shes-claws-deep
Summary: Thermite has been denied his orgasms for what seems like forever. When he sees you dressed up in a tiny skirt and a loose sweater for a work party, he just can't help himself. It's a good thing no one's in the kitchen ;D





	Kinky Christmas Action

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baysian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baysian/gifts).



“Baaabe~” Lips press against your ear and purr sonorously. “Don’t be mean.”

You quirk a smirk on your lips, raising your glass of whiskey to cover the smug look on your face. “What do you mean, Jordan?”

Jordan Trace pouts and wraps his arms around you, his hands travelling under your shapeless sweater and the hem of your short, checkered skirt. His warms hands are like little heating packs as they rasp over your belly and the tender skin of your pelvis, rubbing and caressing until you feel just as heated as he does. Of course, the insistent erection at the small of your back contributes to that flame flickering within you.

“You wear this and tell me I’m not supposed to get horny?” he murmurs into your hair, nosing at your ear when all you do is laugh at his misery.

“I told you, if you last till midnight, you get your Christmas gift.” Then you turn around and take a look at the drunk and tipsy operators all around you. “But if you insist…” With firm hands on his wide chest, you push him back into the empty, and messy, kitchen, ducking behind the huge fridge so as to be out of sight of the open doorway.

“Just to shut you up, you understand?” Your finger jabs at his nose when you see the triumphant look in his eyes. “You’re going to bother me with that monster cock in your sweats the whole night if I don’t.”

“Baby, you know me so well,” he crows and slides his arms around your back as you press him into the wall. “Mind if I just…uh…” His hands slither under your skirt to grope at your ass and your panties, his fingers wandering where they shouldn’t, only to find that you’re rather wet for someone who told him to wait.

Rather than listen to his smartass quip about the slick covering his finger, you silence him with a firm kiss that soon devolves into a heavy makeout session. Teeth, tongue, lips, all dancing and fighting and tasting until his cock presses hard into your belly. Your hand isn’t idle as you kiss the breath out of him; you scratch your nails down his scalp and his neck, the other wound tightly around his shoulders until you feel as if you’ve fused yourself with him.

Jordan isn’t complaining one bit, no siree, not when you’re grinding up against him to the tune of Last Christmas playing faintly in the noisy living room. Instead, he rocks his hips too, spreading his thighs wide open so you can slot yourself between them. His cock isn’t to be forgotten, however, and somehow shifts so the very tip of his cock peeks out from his loose waistband.

“You’re one kinky sonofabitch, you know that?” you snarl against his lips, jerking his head to the side so you can bite down on his tanned neck.

Jordan yelps loudly but stifles it just as quickly, biting down hard on his lip as his blood runs cold. Fuck, did someone hear it? You clearly don’t care, though, and neither does his cock, which in fact grows even harder at the thought of someone catching you. Fuck, he really is a kinky sonofabitch.

“Mmm, fuck me, babe,” he moans into your ear as you nibble at the underside of his jaw. “C’mon, please?”

“Do you deserve it?”

Jordan nods fervently, his greedy hands halting on your hips just under your sweater, and stills himself as best he can. You’ve always emphasised that a good boy never gets greedy, never takes more than he is offered. Jordan is finding that lesson hard to learn, but he is an eager one nonetheless. “I’m a good boy, ma’am. Haven’t I been a good boy?” Oh please tell him you’ll have mercy. He hasn’t cum in what feels like forever; if blue balls is a medical condition, he definitely has it now. “Please?”

The desperation in his eyes is intoxicating, as is the tremble of his jaw as he fights not to move, not to overpower you and push you into the wall instead. Oh, what a rush. You bite your lip and grin, jerking his pants down around his ankles and freeing his cock from his, admittedly ridiculous, Santa boxers.

“I wonder what your colleagues would say if they saw you like this,” you murmur thickly into his ear as you hook your leg around his waist. Jordan shivers and holds onto your thigh, his chest heaving as you continue to taunt him softly. “They’d see you with your pants around your ankles and your boxers around your thighs. What a dirty pervert, they’d think, trying to jerk off in the kitchen when no one’s watching.” His cock, thick, throbbing, and leaking precum, presses against your clothed pussy with the help of your hand.

“Ohhh~” he moans loudly, those kiss-swollen lips parting to let all manner of sounds escape from his mouth. He looks down; sees his cock covered by your tiny skirt in front, imagines what it would look like from behind you. Imagines seeing his cock head rub against the wet spot in your panties that he can very clearly feel. “Oh please, fuck, don’t tease me!”

You laugh at his begging. “Be careful what you wish for~” With a quick move of your fingers, the gusset of your panties is pulled to the side and his cock slides right in. All the way in.

He chokes on his spit, swallowing the moan that would otherwise have reverberated through the kitchen. Luckily for him, the singer’s voice inches towards the chorus, loud enough to cover his insensible sounds so that no one would be drawn to the kitchen.

On your end, you let out a little sigh of pleasure at the feeling of his cock filling you up completely. God, fuck, he’s so fucking big, you love it. The length; the girth; the curve; it’s all perfect. And all yours. Grabbing both sides of his head, you kiss him ferociously and whisper against his lips, “Hush now, Officer Trace. Don’t want your friends to see you all messed up like this, right?”

That taunt only makes him growl and groan deep in his chest, his arms tightening around your body to urge you to grind against him. Your continued dirty talk in his ear does nothing but spur him on, that little part of him that loves the threat of being discovered, the thrill of being so exposed in a public place, coming to the fore. He moans a little louder in your ear when you bite at his neck. When you leave red trails of scratches down his neck and shoulders. When you find your way to his ultra sensitive nipples to twist and tease until he’s absolutely writhing with oversensitivity.

Laughter slips out of you, one that’s interspersed with moans as he rocks his hips harder, as he clutches you tighter to angle you just right so he can pound into you as fast and as hard as he can. “Fuck, you moan any louder and they’ll hear that it’s you begging for mercy like a little whore.”

Jordan swallows thickly and hikes up your other leg so you’re seated completely on his swollen cock. The motion only makes you tighten around him, a move that almost pushes him over the edge. Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Jordan squeezes his eyes closed and ruts into you as hard as he dares, gasping, “I don’t care. Don’t fucking care. Please, may I cum? Ma’am, please, please may I cum!”

Shit, if he’s at the point where he doesn’t care about being caught any longer…

“No.”

He breaks into sobs, begging loudly as though you two were in your bedroom and not the base’s kitchen. “Please! Please let me cum!”

You grin, jerking down your loose neckline and your bra so you can stuff your breast in his wet mouth. “You’re too loud.” With one ear listening for his needy whimpers that are just barely muffled by your nipple and your tit, you manage to catch the tune of the song playing faintly in the background. The moment you catch the verse just before the chorus, you ride him hard. Riling him up, making him dance under you until you can tell that he’s absolutely at his limit.

Then.

Then, when the chorus strikes, you force him to cum with one hand pinching his nipple cruelly and the other pulling at his hair. “Cum.”

“OH FUCK!” Jordan yelps. “Fuckfuckfuck, fuck me fucking shiiiii-” He slams you down on his hips with all his strength, his cock jumping inside you as he cums and cums and cums. Hell, when you extract yourself from him, he’s still twitching and cumming.

Suddenly drained of all his energy, Jordan’s knees buckle and send him sliding to the ground, leaving you to stand with your legs on either side of him.

“How pitiful,” you purr at him, leaning down to comb a stray lock of hair away from his face. “Better get up before someone sees you.” For you, it’s easy to make yourself look presentable, save for the inconspicuous trail of white seed leaking down your inner thigh. You just need to straighten your hair, pull up your sweater and bra, and grab a cold one from the fridge.

All just in time to see Mike poke his head into the kitchen. He looks at you with those stern eyes, eyeing you suspiciously until he notices Jordan’s legs sticking out from beside the fridge. He appears to notice the pants around his ankles and the little puddle between them, snarling, “Kinky motherfucker, ain’t ya?” And then he disappears back into the crowd with a disgusted groan.

Hopefully, he just thinks Jordan had a little happy time to himself. Looking down at Jordan’s dazed form, with his ugly sweater pulled up to his clavicle and his sweats around his ankles, his cock flaccid and soaked with your combined juices, he’d better hope no one actually sees him like this.


End file.
